


Key

by gonattsaga



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But this is flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harold is hard to read, M/M, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonattsaga/pseuds/gonattsaga
Summary: Finch’s address, finally — a symbolic gesture, maybe; I trust you with this piece of information about myself, my life, now. Happy birthday.But as soon as the thought flared up, John had stomped it out again.
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese
Comments: 9
Kudos: 45





	Key

**Author's Note:**

> Another Harold/John ficlet I found gathering virtual dust on my laptop. Makes me want to re-watch this show...

1.

It was the first thought to pop into John’s head when he’d flipped the other man’s business card over to see the address scribbled out in the by-now-familiar hand writing — Finch’s address, _finally_ — a symbolic gesture, maybe; _I trust you with this piece of information about myself, my life, now. Happy birthday._

But as soon as the thought flared up, John had stomped it out again. Because, yes, it wouldn’t be inconceivable that Harold would trust him with the address to his home now, finally, but the key? No. There is no way he’d give John a key to his place. Not that John _needs_ a key — if he wants to get inside the other man’s house, he’ll find a way — but to give someone a _key_ , a key to your own home, that’s more than just an invitation to cross the threshold and snoop around, it’s… John shakes his head. No. That _would_ be inconceivable.

Which is why he starts entertaining other ideas. Maybe Finch got him a place of his own? An apartment where he can rest his head or get drunk in-between Numbers, instead of the hotel?

As soon as John gets an opportunity, he visits the address on the business card. It’s a modest stone building in a nice area and, studying it from his vantage point across the street, John feels practically dumb-funded when Harold appears through the main entrance and limps down the staircase. John stares as the man totters along the pavement in the direction of the library and waits until he’s ducked out of sight around the corner before he shakes himself from his stupor and hails a cab.

So it was Finch’s address, after all. But that… that doesn’t make any sense, John thinks as he slides into the back of the taxi. Why would Finch give me a key to his house?

2.

”Am I coming home with you?”

”That’s up to you”, Finch murmurs distractedly.

”Why did you give me my own key? So I can come and go as I please? Or to keep safe in case you lose yours?”

”I don’t lose things.”

”So it’s for me?”

”It was a birthday present, of course it’s for you.”

”Yeah, but… you… you sayin’ I can, what, _live_ with you? Crash on your sofa? Or what?” John presses.

”That’s up to you”, Finch says again, his voice as toneless and unreadable as his face.

Swallowing a sigh, John decides to try a different tactic.

”You know, usually when someone gives someone else a key to their home, as a gift, it means they’re asking them to live together…”

”Is that so.”

”Yeah. Like _together_ -together, I mean. Like _a couple._ ”

”I understood what you meant, John… well, here we are”, Finch says and comes to an unsteady stop below the steps to his house and turns his whole body around stiffly to (finally) look at John. ”Have you decided?”

”Decided… decided what?”

”If you’re coming in?”

”I… yeah. Yes. Of course I am.”

”Fine”, Finch says, a stiff half-turn away from John again.

” _’Fine’_?” John repeats, a hint of incredulity in his voice, because really, what the fuck.

Finch turns back to face him again, one eyebrow twitching into a wry arch above his spectacles.

” _Good_ ”, he corrects himself. ”Better?”

Instead of answering, John counters with a question of his own, ”Am I sleeping on the sofa?”

”I don’t know. Are you?”


End file.
